


ephemeral — avengers oneshots

by vxlkyries



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Awkward Romance, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humour, Multi, Peter Parker is Precious, Protect the avengers at all costs, Romance, Slice of Life, Tony needs a break, domestic AU, lots of cuteness, lots of sadness, lots of shenanigans, okay i know i sad mostly sadness but honestly it's adorable, overall mostly fluff, totally lots of sadness in future oneshots though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 09:46:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16951701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vxlkyries/pseuds/vxlkyries
Summary: A series of oneshots consisting of you and your favorite Avengers.





	1. Tony Stark — Let You Go

TONY STARK WAS YOUR BEST FRIEND, AND THE MAN YOU WERE HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH. You didn't know when your feelings for him started to change during the many years of knowing him, but you suspected the slow change started on the day you first met him.

You were enthralled in the painting in front of you admiring the fact that despite the bleak and scarred background littered with remnants of a dead war, the entewined couple remained together through it all.

You didn't know how long you had been standing there, fully immersed in the painting, until a man spoke up. "Huh. A bit over the top."

Dressed in a grey suit, the man eyed the painting a bit longer and then turned to you, waiting for your reply. "You don't like it?" you asked.

He smirked, brown eyes sparkling in the light. "Oh, I love it." He gestured towards the couples passionate embrace. "But everything else? Not so much."

You shrugged. "Sure, it's a bit sharp on the eyes, but there's something about it..." you trailed off, trying to find the words.

"It speaks to your inner hopeless romantic?" he asked and raised an eyebrow at you. "I suppose one day you want something like this? An all consuming perfect love, too caught up in each other to notice the world going to hell?"

"No. Love is not perfect and that's okay. If you look closer, there are subtle hints in the painting that show they survived something horrible." You pointed to the many hints scattered in the background. "And in the end, they're still together."

He eyed you curiously. "So what kind of love do you want?"

You blushed, slightly taken back. "Well, a love where together, you're prepared to take on hell," you nodded to the painting, "and still be together once it's over."

The man opened his mouth to speak but closed it when his phone beeped. He frowned, seeming almost reluctant as he spoke, "I must be off. It has been a pleasure, you were the highlight of my night, not these overly priced paintings."

It wasn't until he was out the door that you realized you had never asked his name. But it didn't matter, for it wasn't long until you realized who he was. And it wasn't much longer after that when your paths crossed again.

You didn't expect him to remember you when you saw him again, bickering with your boss. As soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up and he smiled. "Art lady!"

Director Fury had been amused, and so had Natasha when she found out the mystery art gallery man was Tony Stark.

Afterwards, you fought off the invasion of New York beside him, and ever since been close.

Being his best friend meant being there for him every time him and his girlfriend Pepper got into a fight. It wasn't unusual for him to show up outside your door, a bottle of whiskey in hand ready to pour out his sorrows. You were always prepared to give him advice, and most of the times you didn't need to as none of the spats were big.

But one day was different.

It was late when you heard a knock on your door, and when you opened it you were ready to give him a piece of your mind for waking you up until you saw how devastated he looked. The usual cocky grin of his was gone, and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes were replaced with despair. He looked broken.

Instantly you pulled him in for a hug. He hugged you tighter, and quietly said, "She ended it, Y/N."

The following months ensued of you helping him overcome his heartbreak, and although it wasn't easy, he eventually started to move past it. It was within those months, having spent more time with him than usual, did you become aware of your feelings for him. Unsure if he felt the same way, you kept the love you harboured a secret, until one day.

You and him decided to visit the art gallery in which you first met for nostalgia's sake. Once again, you were captivated by the same painting. After all the years since the day you first saw it, it remained as striking as ever.

You turned to Tony, hoping to get his thoughts on it once more knowing he wasn't as fond of it as you were, only to find him gazing at you intensely with a look you couldn't make out. "What?" you asked.

He didn't reply, his eyes still locked on you.

You huffed. "Do I have something on my face?"

He took a step towards you and cupped the side of your face, not once breaking his gaze from you. He leaned in, and you did so too. "I love you." And then he kissed you, deeply, until you were breathless.

And so started your relationship with him. Your fondest moments with him had to be the early mornings together. He would wake, his sleep marred by nightmares, and not long after you would wake too, having missed his presence beside you. You'd always find him in the lounge, a big blanket beside him ready to wrap the two of you in it once you snuggled up beside him on the couch. He'd hold you in his arms as the sun rose, and not long after, still in his arms, would the two of you fall asleep again.

Everything was going well, you were happy, and he was too. But then she returned.

Tony had taken Peter Parker under his wing, and so had you. But there were things you nor Tony could help Peter with - the press.

Tony had returned home, having held a press conference for Spider-Man's latest debacle that had ended with a lot of unforseen property damage. Being one of the only Avengers not on the run, it was his duty to reassure the public about the youngest member.

He told you Pepper was there. He didn't expect her to be there. But she was, handling eveything so he didn't have to.

Tony was excited, maybe a bit too excited as he told you everything. "She wants to patch things up." He noticed your frown. "And be friends, since we left things on such a bad note."

It was only after that day did his behavior change. At first it was subtle, but then it got to the point where you couldn't ignore it.

"Tony, we need to talk," you said to him, hands on your hips.

"Now? Can it wait?" he asked, not looking up from his phone. "Busy. New suit needs parts."

You grit your teeth together. After Pepper had returned, he had switched his attention from you, to his work. Many dates were cancelled, to the point where he hadn't even bothered to go out with you. You were certain he was avoiding you, more so when he'd wake up long before you and head down to his lab, only returning once the stars were out.

His phone rang, and he answered it on the first ring. "Pep! What can I do for you?"

You scowled at him, bitter at the fact that he took ages to answer any of your calls. "Can you tell her to call you back later?"

He held up a hand, and laughed at something she said. You waited, their conversation going on for minutes, until he finally ended the call. Not because you, his girlfriend, was waiting to talk to him, but because Pepper had work.

"Are you kidding me? You tell me you're busy with work, but you don't seem too busy to talk to Pepper!" you said in disbelief.

"Why the sudden hostility towards Pepper?" he asked you, frowning.

"I have nothing against Pepper," you said, trying to calm down. "I have a problem with you avoiding me!"

Tony looked guilty.

"Nothing to say about that?" you asked him. Your heart hammered in your chest. You had hoped he'd say something, anything to excuse his actions, but he didn't, his silence confirming everything. "I'm so glad you're choosing her over me," you spat.

"I'm not choosing her over you!" he snapped. "Stop throwing a tantrum."

You threw your hands up in the air. "Yeah, I'm the one throwing a tantrum, but at least I'm not running from my problems. My feelings."

"Enough of this. I don't want to have this conversation."

"You never did change, Tony. Still the playboy, still breaking hearts." You turned away from him. "I expected more from you."

"Clearly this isn't working. Okay, you want the truth?" he asked. You turned to face him again and nodded. "Maybe I don't know anymore. Maybe my feelings changed. Maybe you were a rebound."

His words cut through you, and you did everything you could to keep your face blank, not wanting to show him how much that hurt you. "We're done. " You marched out of the room, not waiting for a reply.

Hastily you collected your things, your blurred vision made it hard to do so but you didn't want any tears to fall.

You were halfway out of the compound when you ran into Peter.

He smiled at you happily, but once he saw your luggage, and the tears in your eyes, his smile dropped. "Are you okay? Where are you going?"

You rubbed at your eyes and took in a deep breath. "Away. I'm no good here. Cap could use my help, being a fugitive and all."

"Do you have to leave? Will I ever see you again?"

You nodded sadly. "But I'll be back, kid. Whenever you need me."

"Just not to stay?" he asked, his voice quiet. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you hugged him. "See you around, Spider-Man."

You left, not looking back.

When Peter came barreling into his office, Tony regretted every word he had said.

"Mr. Stark, you have to go after her!" Peter said as he caught his breath. "She couldn't have gone far."

"Not after what I told her."

"Why?" Peter asked him. "You love her, and she loves you. I'm sure she'll forgive you."

Tony ran a hand down his face, frustrated. "What did you think we were, kid? A happy couple, with a happy ending? Well, relationships don't always work the way you want them to. People make mistakes. I make mistakes."

Peter looked down. "This mistake, out of all the ones you've made, is the one that you will never be able to move passed."

Once Peter left, Tony had wandered into your shared bedroom. Once he saw all your belongings gone did the weight of his actions impact. He was wrong, and he wanted so badly to take back his words. You meant so much more to him, more than you'd ever know. You were his true love, and he let you go.

Days passed and he couldn't find you. Pepper had visited him, and when he saw her, he felt nothing, the only person he could think about was you.

"It's a bit over the top," Vision told him, many months after you left.

"That's what I had said."

"Then why did you purchase the painting?" Vision asked him.

"Because," Tony said as he stared at the blissfully in love couple, "It's the only thing of her I have left."


	2. Tony Stark — Flowers

"What are you doing after work?" Tony asked with a nervous look in his eyes. "You should cancel any plans - if you can."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you feeling okay? You seem on edge."

He paced back and forth, not realizing you were intently watching his reflection in the mirror as you did your makeup. "I'm fine. Really. So, are you free?"

"I'm free. Got anything in mind?" you asked as you applied your lipstick.

"I have something in mind." He stopped pacing and furrowed his eyebrows as if in deep thought.

You turned and faced him, wrapping your hands around his neck as you did so. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be lovely." You leaned in and kissed him softly.

His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. He seemed more relaxed now, too preoccupied with you in his arms to deal with whatever was bothering him. A cheeky smile graced his face. "What time do you have to be at work again?"

___

You arrived at work, half an hour late. As you walked passed your friend Daphne's office, she gave you a questioning look as she typed out some important documents, too flooded with work to risk breaking her train of thought. You smiled sheepishly at her and she understood, gave you a wink and chuckled.

Like her, you dove right into work, only stopping when your secetary entered. "There's a delivery for you," Alex said, a huge grin on his face.

"Bring it in, please."

"I would but I can't... I don't think all of it would fit in your office," he said. "I must say, Mr. Stark has really outdone himself this time."

You got up and followed Alex out, stopping as soon as you saw his desk and the floor around it filled with beautiful arrangements of vibrant flowers. The biggest arrangement, however, was all your favorite flowers arranged artfully.

Alex handed you the letter accomponied with the flowers:

Amongst dozens of gorgeous flowers, you still remain the most beautiful.  
See you later.  
\--- Love, You Know Who I Am

You grinned and clutched the letter to your chest. Leave it to Tony to sign off like that. You wondered what this was all about. You had noticed the past few days he was very nervous. Did he do something and was trying to break the news nicely? Your grin slowly recceeded. If he built another killer robot, no amount of gifts can make up for it.

Daphne appeared, a grateful relieve from your thoughts, stumbling through the flowers, awestruck. "Did you two have a fight? No, wait, an anniversary? Can't be though... And I know it's not your birthday." She lifted a bouquet of white tulips. "Can I take these home?"

You nodded. "He's been a bit... unusual lately. I'm not really sure what's going on."

Tony loved to spoil you, but the flowers paired with his recent behaviour seemed off.

Daphne stopped gushing over the flowers. "You don't think...?"

Even though her question hung in the air, unfinished, you knew what she meant. Tony's reputation as a playboy still lingered around him, as did the many ways he broke off relationships.

"No, no, ignore me. It's probably something else," she said quickly, not wanting to ruin your good mood. "Maybe - maybe he and Captain America have to go save the world for a while and this is his way of saying bye - for now, of course."

"Maybe." You knew that there were no upcoming missions and that Steve and Bucky planned to spend the next week sightseeing, but seeing how Daphne was already so worried, you decided not to tell her that. "It's probably that."

The brunette looked relieved, but worry remained in her hazel eyes.

Alex glared down an arrangement of roses on his desk before replacing it with daisies. "Whatever it is, Miss Y/S/N, it's something big." He stared adoringly at the daisies.

Before he could ask anything, you said, "Yes, Alex, you can keep the daisies. In fact, you and Daphne can choose whichever flowers you like - just not my favorite ones."

___

When you got home, your apartment was decorated with candles and various flower petals. On your bed lay a gorgeous black dress with another note from Tony asking you to wear it.

You followed further instructions on the note, getting into the sleek limousine waiting for you outside and making your way to an opulent restaurant overlooking the whole of New York.

Tony met you there, clad in a black tux. He held a velvet box in his hand - a pair of earrings as you would later find out.

The two of you dined together, enjoying each other's company. But, you noticed, he wasn't his usual self - not fully. He tried to hide it, but you could tell he was nervous. After a few drinks, he seemed to relax. The night was fun, charming and you loved every moment of it.

___

You awoke in your apartment the next morning, the smell of pancakes wafting in the air. Tony was no longer beside you in bed. A bit shocked that he was attempting to make breakfast instead of ordering in, you slipped on one of his shirts and wandered to the kitchen. As you leaned against the wall, you admired the sight of your boyfriend making you breakfast.

"Someone's up early," you commented.

He looked up and grinned. "Good morning, beautiful." He placed a quick kiss on your forehead and returned to the pancakes, clumsily trying to flip them. "I was thinking, maybe June?"

"June?"

"Yeah. But that would be too soon. But I can't wait. I can hire a planner, that way June would be fine - not too rushed," he rambled. "Or maybe july? Wait. What about Christmas? Before or after? It would be snowing."

"Babe, slow down. What are you talking about?" You asked, confused.

"Wedding dates, of course."

You froze. "Tony, we're not even engaged."

He paused, and then turned slowly to you. "I knew I forgot something last night!" He put the pancakes aside. "Wait right here. Don't move. God, I'm such an idiot."

You watched as he scurried off to your bedroom, returning with another velvet box. This time, you knew it wouldn't be earrings, and it was confirmed when he got down on one knee.

"I was supposed to do this last night, but my nerves got the better of me and I had one too many drinks trying to calm myself, it just left my mind and I assumed," he paused to breathe. "Y/N Y/S/N, you are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I would have liked to do this in a more special way because you deserve the best. I love you so, so, so very much. Y/N, will you marry me?"


	3. Steve Rogers — Wingman

THE CAFÉ WAS A QUIET, WARM SANCTUARY. The scent of coffee lingered in the air, mixed with lavender and rose from the flowers potted outside. A book layed on the table in front of you, your steaming drink beside it. You were content, well, almost.

"He's staring again," Magnus whispered, eyes locked intently in the distance. You looked over at the blond man in mention, catching his gaze. He blushed and looked away, prompting his friend to nudge him. "I think he likes you."

You bit back a smile. "Focus on your homework."

"But it's so boring!" Magnus whined, puffing his cheeks out. "Can't you finish it for me?"

"Magnus, you ---"

"He's coming over!"

Startled, you looked up to find the blond man being ushered towards your table by his friend. He was tall and broad shouldered, making the sight of the smaller man urging him on amusing.

"Hi there, I'm Sam and this is my friend Steve," Sam announced, smiling at you. He was dressed in a brown jacket, black cap, his sunglasses tucked into the pocket of his shirt. "You come here often?"

"We're here 5 days a week," Magnus stated matter of factly, "Y/N/N bribes me with chocolate shakes so I do my homework." He then proceeded to proudly hold up his shake.

"Which doesn't seem to be working, I might need to switch to cupcakes," you replied. You smiled warmly at the two men. "Nice to meet you, Sam and Steve. I'm Y/N and this is Magnus."

"Mind if we sit?" Sam asked as he motioned to the two empty chairs at your table. You shook your head and watched as Sam pulled out the chair next to you, expecting him to sit down. Instead, he shoved Steve into the seat and went to sit next to Magnus.

Steve gave you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I - we, hope we're not bothering you."

"So, your name's Y/N? A beautiful name for a beautiful lady," Sam said smirking. Then he nudged Steve, "Ain't that right, Steve?"

Steve gulped and nodded. The dusting of pink on his cheeks and neck deepened.

"And let's not forget about Magnus. That's a cool name, little man," Sam added, taking care to not exclude Magnus from the conversation.

Magnus gave a grin, exposing his gums and braces. "Thanks! My mum gave it to me."

"So, Steve over here couldn't help but notice that each time you came into the café with your brother, you didn't have a partner with -"

"That's not what I - Sam!" Steve scolded nervously.

Sam ignored Steve and continued. "How can a gorgeous lady like you be single?"

"Y/N/N's not my sister, she's my aunt," Magnus answered for you. "She's single because she told my mum the only man for her is Cap ---"

You choked on your drink. A few droplets of it trickled down your chin and onto your shirt.

"Magnus!" Now it was your turn to blush. Steve gave you a sympathetic look knowing how you felt and Sam held in a laugh. You mentally scolded yourself for not filtering what you told your best friend, who was Magnus' mum, when Magnus was around. "Kids, you know how they can be you," you uneasily chuckled.

 

Sam leaned forward, eyebrows raised on his knowing face. "Who's this Cap guy?"

Steve sighed. "Sam, that's none of our business."

"Wait a second," Magnus narrowed his gaze at Sam, "you're The Falcon!"

Realization hit and you gawked at Steve, hoping that he thought the Cap guy was someone else and not him.

"And you're Captain America!" Magnus said in awe. "Y/N/N wants to have your babies!"

It was at that very moment, you felt your world crash and burn. You contemplated just getting up and running, not stopping until you were half way across the continent. You were too mortified to look at Steve, and you felt his gaze on you.

Sam started laughing and turned to Magnus, leaving you alone with Steve. You heard bits of their conversation, about how Steve's disguises always sucked, about how Sam was Magnus' favourite avenger and soon Sam was helping him with his homework. Feeling very embarrassed, you spared a glance at Steve. To your surprise, he was studying you intensely and your Y/C/E eyes locked with his baby blue ones.

Steve took off his baseball cap and you couldn't help but admire him. "Guess I don't need this anymore." He pouted, "My disguises aren't bad, right?"

You chuckled and found yourself relaxing. "Considering it fooled me, I think they're fine."

You were still somewhat embarrassed that Magnus, an 8 year old, managed to figure out it was Captain America, and not you. It's not like he gave you a fake name, plus, physically, he matched what you saw of Captain America, so you were stumped.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. "You know, I was against coming over here because I thought that you'd turn us away." He grinned, "but I'm glad Sam dragged me over."

"I'm really glad he did," you blurted. "I mean, Magnus has always dreamed about meeting an Avenger."

"How would he like to meet the rest of the Avengers?" Steve asked.

"He would be thrilled!"

"Great!" And as if a newfound confidence came over him, Steve added, "Can I get your number? To uh, arrange the meeting."

You and Steve exchanged numbers, a big smile on both of your faces the whole time. Soon, the two of you were engaged in a deep conversation. The more you talked to Steve, the more comfortable you grew around him and it seemed like Steve felt the same way. He started to seem more like Steve to you, and not Captain America.

Sam's phone beeped, alerting him of a new message. "We gotta go, Cap. Tasha is waiting outside."

Both you and Magnus frowned.

"Sorry little man," Sam told Magnus and then glanced at you and Steve. "But don't worry, I doubt this will be the last time we get to hang out."

"How about we continue our conversation, over coffee?" Steve asked you.

You grinned. "Sounds good."

"Here, same time tomorrow?"

"It's a date! Oh, I mean ---"

"It's a date," Steve confirmed.

Sam looked at the two of you and smirked. "I'm such a good wingman, both figuratively and literally. Tasha owes me 5 bucks."

After goodbyes, you watched Steve and Sam make their way to a sleek black Porsche parked outside the café. Steve glanced back, a dorky smile on his beautiful face, and gave you a small wave before getting into the car. Sam, on the other hand, pointed at Steve and made a weird face, causing Magnus to laugh, before getting into the car as well.

Magnus and you sat in silence for a while, too awestruck to say anything until Magnus finally broke the silence. "Do you think Iron Man would date my mum?"


	4. Thor — Library of Secrets

THE LIBRARY OF SECRETS, a rumored place filled to the brim with books containing secrets that could answer all the mysteries in the world. The white business card that had been slid under your apartment's door had no extra information about the place, except on how to find it. Perhaps if you didn't need answers so desperately for your magical infliction, you wouldn't have taken the risk of finding this strange library. For all you knew, it could have been a trap, a murder-house.

In fact, as you stood in the empty alley way, holding your breath and staring at the dirt caked bricks, you considered retreating. Before you could turn and flee, the bricks rumbled, and then, started sliding, up, down, left and right, until a small door was revealed. The door itself was nothing special, just a plain cracked wooden door that needed another touch of paint and a new handle that wasn't rusted. What did stand out, however, were the strange markings that glowed a soft orange.

You had come this far, why retreat now? So you placed your hand on the shaky handle, and with a satisfying click, the door swung open, creaking on its hinges.

"Ah, come in," a voice called out to you. It was coarse and shaky. Your eyes adjusted to the sudden candle light coming from the room you peered into, spotting a small hunched figure with a tuff of white hair, sat behind a wooden desk much too large for him. "Dear, you're letting the warm air out. Library's open, hurry up inside."

Hesitantly, you stepped in and slowly closed the door behind you. You noticed a theme: wood. Wooden floors, ceilings, walls, chairs, desks, staircase, and windows. Windows that to your shock, overlooked a snowy landscape, rattling slightly as an icy wind shook them.

That's not possible. But it was, somehow, because you realized you were no longer in New York. This peculiar library was far too big to fit in the dingy two story building you had tracked down.

"Here's your library card." The man held up a wrinkled hand to you, his papery skin holding a gold card. You trudged slowly across one of the many rugs in the place and accepted the card, confused. "Books checked out should be returned within three weeks, but you can submit a form for an extension. If they're lost, we have a fee you need to pay. Please ensure all books are handled with care." He squinted at the stack of papers on his desk, shifting up his oversized glasses as he did. "Er, says here you're not yet cleared for the more uh, special books. When that time comes, I'll let you know. But, for now, enjoy what is available to you."

You nodded, unsure what to say. Turning away from the man, you wandered in further. The room was cluttered with book-stands, and the walls themselves were filled with books, from floor to ceiling, each bound in colorful hardcover, embossed with silver or gold writing in their spines. There was an upstairs that too, unsurprisingly, held an unbelievable amount of books.

You walked through the aisles of books, skimming the titles: Apothecary, An Ethical Guide to Necromancy, Cooking With Magical Properties, Chaos Magic, Illusions for Parties, Stones and Runes, Basics of Eldritch Magic. One book in particular caught your attention the most. Sure, you wanted to check out all the books, or set yourself up in the loveseat beneath the window and start reading as much as possible, but your life was on the risk, so the fun had to wait.

Picking up Curses, Hexes, and Demons, you sat down onto the floor by the shelf, the thick red rug oddly comfortable, and flipped the book open. The book was beautifully detailed, with drawings of strange creatures, and descriptions that pulled you in. More importantly, it was simple enough to understand considering your lack of knowledge on the heinous topic.

It must have been 30 minutes into reading when you heard a jingle in the distance and the librarian greeting someone. You expected the individual to explore the other parts of the library, instead their footsteps started in your direction.

A blond man popped out from behind a bookshelf, holding a paper and gazing at it and then the books. His eyebrows were pulled downwards in concentration, so much so that he didn't realize you were sitting there on the floor, awkwardly looking up at it him. It was only when you turned to the next page did his blue eyes widen in shock and shoot to you.

You gave him a small smile in greeting and then focused your attention back to your book, not wishing to delay any longer. A couple of minutes passed by, the man still standing in the aisle, face pinched as he examined the books when you decided to speak up.

"Do you need any help?" you asked him, straining your neck upwards to make eye contact with him.

The man ran a hand through his short hair and nodded, eyes going back and forth from the paper to you. "I'm helping out a wizard friend, and he sent me to get him all of these books." He held the paper towards you, hopeful that you could help. "It's not many, but I've only been here a handful of times so I'm still at a bit of a loss."

Taking the paper, you stood up and examined it. "Huh, my first time here, and lucky for you, I just saw a few of these books. Follow me?"

"What brings you here?"

You rolled your shoulders back as you led the way, the man trailing behind you. "Cursed by a demon."

"Oh, um, have you found anything that could help you?"

"Nothing yet," you replied, stopping in front of the books. "Here you go. Sorry I can't help you with the others, think you'll need the librarians help with that."

The man rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. "I don't really like the librarian, he's too bossy." He extended a hand to you. "I'm Thor, you?"

Your eyes widened. The Thor. How did you not recognize him? "Name's Y/N."

"You've just saved me a great deal of work, Y/N. Thank you." Thor grinned at you, extending a hand. You took it, and rather too enthusiastically, he shook your hand.

***

You had returned to your spot after meeting Thor, and picked up where you left your book. Thor was still in the library after a couple chapters later; you could hear him walking around the aisles, muttering annoyed words about a Stephen Strange.

The wind had picked up outside, howling ferociously and rattling the windows. The librarian had left his spot and went upstairs with a cart of books, restocking the shelves. It was oddly cozy in the library, listening to the crack of the fireplace at the end of the room, and snuggling up with an extra blanket the librarian had brought you, enjoying your book.

You were on Page 212, eagerly typing down notes on your phone on how to summon, and then banish a demon, when Thor wandered back into your aisle.

He clasped his hands in front of him, eyeing the books once more. The list was gone, tucked away in his pocket. Leaning forward, Thor pulled out a book, eyeing it intensely, before placing it back on the shelf.

"You know," Thor cleared his throat loudly, "My wizard friend might be able to help you with your demon problem."

"Really? I would really appreciate all the help. I wasn't keen on doing this by myself." You stood up quickly, facing Thor, still having to crane your neck to look at him due to his imposing height.

Thor nodded, a sly grin forming on his handsome face. "But, there is a price I must ask for in return."

Your heart dropped. "Uh, money? I can see what I can rake up but -"

"-No, no, not money," Thor quickly interrupted you. "A date. I meant a date, because you're very beautiful, and you seem lovely, and I would like to get to know your more."

Your eyes widened, realization setting in. "Oh, I-"

"-But, I mean, if you don't want to, I was um-It's fine. My wizard friend and I will still help you, because that's what we do, and you need our help- Did I overstep?" He was rambling, the words tumbling out of his mouth in quick bursts. His cheeks had turned a light pink. "I'm sorry, here's Stephen's address. He's the guy with the cloak, and the floating and magic hands and all that."

"Thor, I would love to go on a date with you," you told him, grinning at how cute and nervous he was. "In fact, I'm not doing anything after this, are you?"

His mouth dropped open, forming an o. "No, I'm not. Um, do you like pancakes? I know it's probably late back home, but it was the first Midgardian food I had when I got here, and so it holds a special place in my heart."

You nodded, tucking your book under your arm. You were about to pick up the rest when Thor quickly collected them for you, easily balancing the heavy stack. You asked him, "I'm guessing you know a place?"

"Yeah, it's a cute little diner, open 24/7. I think you'll love it."


	5. Thor — Stubborn

THE BRICK RED DINER WITH WORN SEATS AND DULL NEON SIGNS SERVED AS A TREASURED ESCAPE. It provided a slice of normalcy for you and your boyfriend. Being an Avenger wasn't as great as it seemed, and you and Thor looked forward to return to this little haven, to be away from the constant battles and the losses that came with them.

To the people around you, you were just another person going about their life. Your waiter, who'd served you countless times now still did not realize that it was Thor and Y/S/H/N, that or he was just really good at acting.

"Is there anything else you'd like?" your waiter asked as he placed the bill on the table.

Thor shook his head. "No, thank you."

He reached to pick up the bill but you stopped him. "I'll pay this time, babe."

Thor smiled and attempted to pick up the bill once more. "No, my love. Allow me."

"It's fine, let me," you insisted.

"No, let me."

"Thor, I'm paying."

"No, I'm paying."

This was not uncommon. You and Thor were two very stubborn people and the amount of times the two of you bickered over the most silly things was uncountable. You would be lying if you said you weren't fond of these moments, however infuriating they might be.

"My love, I insist. Let me pay," he said with a determined look in his eyes.

"You paid the last time," you countered.

"And I shall pay once more!"

"We agreed we'd take turns!"

"My Queen shall not raise a finger!" the words escaped his mouth with sincerity, his eyes softening as he stared at you. "You need not want for anything."

"Thor! You can't spoil me all the time."

"If I may," said the waiter awkwardly, "Why don't the two of you split the bill?"

"...Yes. That works too," Thor cleared his throat and sheepishly smiled at you.

After the incident, you and Thor walked hand in hand in silence back to your apartment. The once clear skies were now dark with clouds and it wasn't long until it started to rain.

Thor took off his jacket and attempted to drape it over you, but you stopped him. "We're not far from home and it's just a little rain."

Thor sighed, "Humans are delicate things. You will catch a cold."

Thor's comment had reminded you of the constant times that he was shielding you, not in battle, but in life. You didn't want Thor to think of you as weak. You didn't want to be treated as weak. If only he hadn't said what he did, you would have accepted his jacket without any protests.

"It's fine, stop worrying about me."

"My love, please, don't be like this," Thor called out to you as you quickened your pace.

"Be like what? A fragile Midgardian?"

Thor mentally kicked himself. He couldn't help wanting to constantly pamper and protect you. He loved you and it was true, you were human; your body was much more fragile compared to his. He did not know what he'd do if something were to happen to you.

Thor called out to you, "Slow down, Y/N. You might slip." You ignored him. "At least take my jacket."

"No."

"Y/N."

"No."

"Just take the jacket!" he said exasperatedly.

You turned and looked at him. "I don't need it."

Thor quickened his pace to catch up to you, which didn't take him too long. "The ground is slippery, my love. You must not walk so fast."

"Don't tell me not to walk fast, I'll walk fast all I want!" You huffed and walked faster, leaving Thor behind.

Thor ran a hand through his wet hair and chuckled. "Come over here --- Oh, don't fall!"

"Are... Are you awake? Did you fall asleep already?" Thor whispered. The two of you were back home now, cuddled up in bed. You had caught a nasty fall. Your ankle was sprained and he, much to your protests, carried you the remaining way home.

"Sam tried to annoy me with bird puns," he said when you didn't respond, "but I soon realized toucan play at that game."

You bit back a smile and continued to pretend to be asleep.

"I hate it when Scott uses insect puns, they really bug me."

You groaned, a small smile gracing your face. "Enough with your puns."

Thor noticed your smile and continued, "What do you call Star-Lord protecting a Samsung store? Guardian of the galaxy."

You laughed, long and hard.

"My puns are that good, huh?" Thor asked, grinning.

"No," you answered wiping tears from your eyes, "They're funnily bad." Thor pouted. "But I love them anyways."

You knew what Thor was trying to do. He was trying to lighten the mood and cheer you up, unsure if you were upset with him. Thor propped himself up with one hand and looked at you. "When I'm done with all these puns, you'll be Thor from laughing so much."

You snorted. "Okay, okay! Enough."

"My love," Thor said quietly, all hints of playfulness gone, "I am sorry about earlier."

"It's alright, Thor. Just trust me, okay? I'm stronger than I look."

Thor nodded and placed a kiss on your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too. Oh, and Thor?"

"Yes, my love?"

"You do realize that I wouldn't have had to fall, right?"

He was quiet for a moment. "How so?"

"You're the God Of Thunder. You could have stopped it from raining."

"Oh..."


	6. Thor — Cold

Thor is an anomaly.

Some expect him to be dim witted, a man lost in the wonders of Earth. He surprises them, revealing snippets of his home, making Earth look like a prehistoric garbage dumb, as Tony says.

Some find him intimidating and fierce, a man who creates a path of violence. He proves them wrong with how generous and compassionate he really is; gentle giant than instead of a warmonger.

To you, he's just your boyfriend that enjoys watching sitcoms, loves cuddling, and revels in taking you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner--- his love for you and food have no bounds. He's silly and loveable, yet protective and adept when he needs to be.

Despite being the God of Thunder, practically an alien, and a man from legends, he's prone to flaws. Just like you, and every other Midgardian.

Thor's biggest flaw is that he's opposed to blankets, quilts, duvets --- you name it, and he has it thrown.

You've had talks with him about it, even tried to buy extra blankets for those chilly nights so you'd be spared. But Thor doesn't like the wall of blankets between you and him, because then he can't hold you. So that didn't work.

It wasn't that he was taking the blankets in his sleep. He's a large man, who when he turns and stretches, and kicks the blanket away, it gets pulled off you, and somehow ends up into a ball on his side of the bed. Even being in his arms isn't warm enough to ward of the really icy nights.

Throw in a surprise trip to a beautiful ski lodge, and you're practically freezing.

"Thor," you say into the darkness. He does not stir, instead his snores grow louder. Your hands intertwine with his and slowly try to pry them off your waist. "Honey."

At this there's a rumble in his chest, and he slowly picks his head off the pillow. "Hmph? What's wrong?"

His voice echoes his tiredness and you almost feel bad for what you're about to say, but the fridgid cold in your cheers you on. "I think, for tonight, we should sleep in separate beds."

A few seconds tick on by as you hold your breath in anticipation for is answer.

"I don't understand," he says, his voice a bit clearer now. "Why?"

"Because I am quite literally freezing," you reply as a shiver runs through your body. One thing you envied about Thor was that he hardly felt cold. Earth's tempered weather was nothing to him. "And you've kicked off all the blankets. Again."

"I can wrap you up in them," he pleads. His arm tightens around your waist and he nuzzles his face into the nape of your neck. "I promise I won't shift them."

You knew that would never happen. Multiple times in many cold nights you've draped yourself back into the heavy blankets, only for him become entangled in it like a fly in a spider web, and then flings it off the bed.

"I'm sorry, but--but," you stammer out, the words feeling too heavy to say, "I'm banishing you from this bed. You can share with Steve, he doesn't feel cold."

"You can't banish me! This is my bed too!" he whines, sitting up quickly to fix you with a sad glare. "And I can't sleep unless you're beside me. I want to hold you, not Steve."

Free from his embrace, although missing it, you clamber out of bed and run towards the heavy blankets on the floor. Wrapping yourself up in it, you pitifully glance at him. "And I can't sleep if I'm freezing to death."

He sits up fully and runs a hand through his tousled hair. The moonlight seeping into the room is enough for you to notice the pout on his face.

"What if... I wrap you up in the blanket? With pillows, too?" he asks hopefully. "That'll work?"

"You like physical contact, remember?" His proposed plan had been tried and tested, until he grew sad because he couldn't hold you close to his chest. "This is for the best. Just for tonight, until we can ask for a room with better heating."

"I have an idea," he says as he jumps out of bed. Throwing on a shirt over his boxers, he runs out of the room. You can hear him pounding on someone's door, and there's a gruff what that follows. Then Thor is barreling back into the room, a proud smile on his face. "I've got us a room with better heating."

Clint shuffles into the room behind Thor, a trail of multiple blankets that he's encased in follows. He's wearing his it's too early to be up frown, but he still forces a grin at you. "Mornin'."

"Barton has given us his room," Thor declares, hands on his hips, looking proud of himself. He shuffles over to you and hoists you up, bids Clint goodnight, and then barrels out the room into Clint's.

You can't complain. Clint's room has a working heater, and Thor cranks it all the way up so the thought of blankets makes you sweat.

Soon enough, Thor's fast asleep, his heavy limbs entangled with yours and holding you close. You sigh sleepily, thankful to have him in your life.


	7. Bucky Barnes — Haunted

They were screaming at him again. Gaunt, pale faces, their mouths twisted open and their eyes sunken with agony. Bucky couldn't help them. He had killed them.

He tried to ignore them, turn away and focus on the mission. But their screams only grew louder and louder before seeping into harrowed sobs. They hated him. They feared him. They pitied him.

Another would be joining them soon. Bucky knew he had to act fast, make it painless and quick. Maybe then they would leave him alone, once it was over, once they had company in their unmarked graves.

He stalked forward into the thick fog, a predator unseen to his prey. She didn't hear nor see him until the gunshot rang out.

Just a few seconds, less than that even, was all was needed for the fear and shock to mingle with the pain before her heart stopped. Just like them now, she would always wear torment on her face.

Silence.

They crowded around her quietly, their pale figures mixing with the fog. They wept for her.

Bucky could do nothing else. He sat down, cold and broken, and watched.

Then, he woke up.

A nightmare, one of many, that happened every night. He remembered her name. He remembered why he killed her. HYDRA never liked loose ends.

He remember them, too. The damned. The ones he robbed from life. The ones who would always haunt him.

When Bucky entered the lounge, he expected it to be empty. Of course, you were there, bundled up and reading something on your phone.

He hesitated. Should he disturb you? You didn't deserve to be involved in the weight he carried. That was his burden to bear, alone.

It was too late to back away, however. You had already spotted him, a warm smile on your face as a greeting.

Bucky gave you a nod, and shuffled into the room. He sat down on the couch beside you. The room felt too small, like it was closing in and crushing his lungs.

You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he let out a breath. The look on your face said things would be okay.

"Do you think we're bad people?" Bucky asked you. His eyes were skittish, and small beads of sweat trailed down his cheeks. "All the people we hurt---killed. Are we really helping anyone?"

You placed your phone down, crossed your legs and faced him. "You're a good person, Bucky. Your past? You're not responsible for any of it. HYDRA robbed you of your free will: you were a prisoner in your own body."

"But I am responsible, Y/N. They died by my hands. I was aware of everything." Bucky closed his eyes. He could see them. "I want to help them, but I can't."

"You can help them. Live for them. Save more lives for them. You were a puppet, don't let the hand that pulled the strings win," you comforted him softly. "Work on hunting down every last person responsible for breathing life into HYDRA. For them."

They seemed to like your words. They were angry. They wanted revenge.

Bucky opened his eyes, a new determination in them. "You're right. We need peace, and I'll get it for us."

You nodded firmly. There wasn't all much you could do now, but just be there for him, and distract him from the unpleasant thoughts. So you asked, "Want to watch some TV with me? I'll make us some snacks."

***

Steve found you and Bucky the next morning snoring softly on the couch, with an upturned bowl of popcorn by Bucky's foot and a few wrappers of chips and chocolate around your form.

Quietly he switched off the TV and draped a blanket over his best friends. He smiled, assured that Bucky would always be okay with you by his side.


	8. Wade Wilson — Odd

Soulmates were odd.

No one knew when they would find theirs, not until the day came. Then it was as if a switch turned on, and you just knew: today was the day.

It was odd, really.

You had expected a warm, tingly, encompassing feeling of love. A burst of joy, maybe. A serene wave of relief, perhaps.

Anything would have been better than having all the nerves in your body bundle up in apprehension.

Instead of feeling like you would meet your soulmate, you felt like you were going to give a hastily prepared speech to a large crowd - naked.

It really, really, was the oddest experience... Surely meeting ones soulmate would feel good?

"How'd you know?" you had asked your friend one day over a hot coffee, curious to finally gain some insight on the whole soulmate thing.

She had let out a dry laugh, took a sip of her coffee and frowned. "It was weird. You just know. You wake up, and you have this horrible pit in your stomach... And you know it's because it's the day."

You had nodded, trying to understand it all, but just couldn't wrap your head around it.

She had shifted in her seat, set her cup down, and looked you in the eye. "Trust me, you'll know when it's time, and you'll know when you see them."

And she was right. Your morning had started like any other morning, except you were beyond nervous without cause, and then it settled over you like a heavy blanket: it was time.

You carried out your morning duties like always, mind buzzing with a million scenarios, and rushed out of the house. Being inside was nearly suffocating, and you needed some fresh air. Maybe a walk, or a quick jog would do you well, you had thought.

Parked nearby was a yellow taxi, just like any other in the city. Except this one was awfully banged up, and you could only imagine what kind of driver was behind the wheel to cause so many dents to car. Yet, that didn't stop you from walking up to it and knocking on the window, suddenly feeling like you needed to be anywhere but near your small, cozy apartment.

The driver jumped, glanced at you with a wide, hazel eyes and let out a sigh of relief. After hastily folding up the newspaper he was reading and setting it down onto the passenger seat, he opened the window. "Hello, ma'am. Where can I take you?"

You gave him directions to a café a few blocks away, hoping that the warm environment and delectable drinks would soothe your soul.

The engine had hummed to life when the driver smacked his head in frustration and quickly swiveled around in his seat to face you. "I'm so sorry, but I forgot that I have to wait for my friend to get back. He won't be long, would you mind?"

You gave him a soft smile and shook your head gently. "That's fine. I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. My name is Dopinder."

The two of you settled into a comfortable, polite conversation until he frowned and asked, "Are you feeling well? You look -"

"Nervous? Scared? Uh, yeah I know." You looked down, fiddling with your hands in your lap, debating whether or not you should tell him the reason why. "Today is the day I meet my soulmate."

Dopinder's eyes widened and a huge smile graced his face. "Wow, that's amazing!"

You bit your lips. "It is, but it doesn't feel like."

He nodded solemnly. "My cousin... Bandhu," he paused, eyebrows crossed and face contorted in disgust as he said the other man's name, "he found his soulmate last year. Said it felt horrible, but then once you meet them it's the greatest thing to happen to you. So don't worry, everything will be okay."

You took in a deep breath, exhaled, and nodded with a new resolve. You still felt horribly anxious, but Dopinder's words gave you hope. "Thank you, Dopinder."

The passenger door opened, and a man clad in a red suit from head to toe snapped up the newspaper.

Dopinder groaned at the man. "Not again, D.P. I just had the seats cleaned."

Curious, you peered over the seat to get a better look at the man, and froze as your eyes locked on the crimson that soaked through the newspaper. The apprehension you had felt earlier was nothing compared to the shock and disquiet you had presently.

Dopinder looked at you, and then back to the man. "And now you're going to scare of my only other customer!"

The man shrugged, sat down and let out a sigh of relief. "I've just had the worst day ever. It was like reliving prom all over again, and it wasn't even my prom."

"Is that blood?" your voice was a strained squeak. "Oh my God that's a lot of blood."

"Honey, you haven't seen nothing yet," the man murmured. Suddenly turning in his seat to face you, he whipped the paper off to reveal a clean cut. What should have been a hand with all five fingers was just a bloody stub.

With the erratic emotions, the shock of blood and bone, you couldn't hold in the shrill scream that escaped your lips.

"Why did you have to do that, D.P?" Dopinder asked, hitting his head onto the steering wheel. The hooter blared loudly, mixing in with your scream.

The man huffed. "Because we're all going to enjoy my shitty day together."

Your hands shot for the door, grasping around wildly to open it, yet it didn't budge. "Let me out!"

"Was it something I said?" the man asked. He held out his hand to you. "Touch it."

You didn't remember what happened after your eyes rolled back and you slipped into darkness, only that your scream was nearly deafening, and that for some reason Dopinder had started screaming too.

When your eyes opened again you were in a dimly lit, run down flat. The springs of the couch you were laying on dug into your spine. The dust was in the room was thick, and you held back a sneeze.

You knew your first reaction should have been more screaming, maybe running for the door, or even grabbing one of the knives scattered about, yet that wasn't it.

All the nervousness, the horrible, drowning emotion that had plagued you the whole day was gone... and suddenly replacing it all was the sweet, warm and welcoming peace you had imagined you'd feel when meeting your soulmate.

It really was odd.

The man from the taxi was in the room, seated on the floor as he stared at you. He cleared his throat loudly. "So, meeting you felt absolutely fucking awful. But then you blacked out and all the banshee screaming died down and... I've never felt more at peace in my life."

You raised an eyebrow at him. He was your soulmate. The puzzle pieces fit together, and you realized the horrible anxiety everyone felt prior to meeting their soulmate was because the meeting itself was horrible.

However, after the horrid encounter, things just felt right. There was an unseen tug between you and him, and you had the impulsive feeling to close the distance between you two. The man you had just met made you feel safe.

"Okay, that's probably not how I should word this but -," he ripped off his mask. "This scarface here thinks he might be your soulmate. Please don't start screaming again, babes."

"Odd," you mumbled, and then laughed. "Weird. No, bizzare. This day is just..."

"Odd?" he finished for you.

You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around things. "Yeah."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Look, I'm at a real loss here. Like, I'm feeling things I've never felt before? It's like a unicorn and LSD had sex and produced the most euphoric shit ever."

You studied him for a moment. His face was scarred, and you could tell he was ashamed of it, because he flinched back as if not wanting you to see his scars. But you didn't care, because scars or not, he was without a doubt the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes upon. And sure, maybe you were a little biased with him being your soulmate and all, but nothing about him would stop you from loving him.

You slowly crawled off the couch and sat down cross legged opposite him. He was taller than you, with the top of your head meeting his chin. You reached out a hand and cupped the side of his face, and he leaned into your touch, a small blissful sigh leaving his lips.

His eyes were a warm brown, and when you looked at them it was as if he was looking into your soul, and yours his. It was the first time the phrase 'sparks flying' took a literal meaning for you.

He held up a hand to stroke your cheek as well but stopped when your mouth dropped open. "It'll grow back. Maybe. Probably. Hope you don't mind holding hands with a T-Rex."

The hand in question was the one you were certain had been sliced off, except now it was back but... very small.

You chuckled, clearly there was a lot you needed to know about your soulmate. "So, are you going to tell me your name, or should I just call you the Baby Hand Man?" you asked him.

"Wade," he said. "Wade Wilson. Resident badass, local pain in the ass."

Soulmates were indeed odd, but you would never have it any other way.


End file.
